anemone
doublecappuccino
The season of long nights has come to the northern hemisphere. We wrap ourselves in old, soft sweaters and put on warmer socks. We feed ourselves on soups and sip hot cider. We light fires against the gloom and festoon our houses with strings of needle-bright holiday lights. And though our laughter is real and our joy is real, we are aware of the always-waiting chill.
The season of long nights is the season of slow thoughts. Unlike the refulgent green thoughts of summer…quick and radiant, shifting like schools of brilliant fish…the thoughts of winter hover ponderous and grey as dugongs. Thoughts that burn slow as seasoned wood, thoughts as sharp as cider, thoughts as comfortable as old sweaters and as deep as the long night itself.
Some find reasons for despair, and those reasons are there because the night is long. Others find comfort in the soups and fires, the cider and holiday lights, the familiar caress of thick socks. They understand that warmth is only meaningful when measured against the cold, and that the effortless fluidity of the day is only made possible by the eloquence of the long night.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, greg fallis and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
